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He’s sitting in the dark when the fumbling at the door begins. The man is like a cat scratching at the wood to be let in. Well, it’s only right that Hakkai oblige. He extends the vines that curl gently over his fingers. His control is much better now, and he can direct the vines like limbs. He smiles as he watches them crawl over the floor and pop the lock, then turn the knob.
Gojyo is so sloshed he stumbles and slams onto the ground as soon as he loses the support at his back. “Fuck. Ow.” The lovely crimson hair spills onto the linoleum like blood, starkly, darkly visible in the bright moonlight that streams inside. The white undershirt Gojyo wears is like a beacon in the night. It’s not enough cover for the quickly cooling days, but he’d ignored Hakkai last night when the healer had insisted he take a jacket. He’d ignored Hakkai when he’d told the redhead to have dinner before he left. And he’d ignored Hakkai when he’d told him to be home by midnight.
It’s intolerable. He will have to be taught a lesson.
Gojyo sits up slowly, jumping when he spots Hakkai watching him from the shadows, sitting on the wingback chair, legs spread. The redhead grins, wide and senseless and licks those plush, distracting lips. “Hakkai,” he purrs, and Hakkai’s hands tighten on the arms of the chair.
Intolerable. Does Gojyo truly not know? He carelessly, recklessly uses that silken voice. He flaunts his tight, toned, tanned body. Meanwhile, Hakkai cooks for him, cleans for him, caters to his needs and still the redhead teases mercilessly, thoughtlessly, smiling at Hakkai, touching him as though Hakkai isn’t a man with needs like any other.
He can bear it no longer.
Suddenly Gojyo shakes his head and looks more closely, gaze sharpening. “Hakkai?”
“Yes, Gojyo?” He savors the name on his tongue.
The redhead blinks, trying to make sense of what he is seeing. “Are your limiters off?”
Hakkai grins, sharp canines showing, and he sees some caution enter Gojyo’s eyes. Much too late. “They are,” he answers, gutturally. His vines are on Gojyo in the next second, living ropes binding him and dragging him to Hakkai’s feet where he belongs. “No, don’t struggle,” he tells the redhead patiently who throws him a disbelieving look, “I wouldn’t want to accidentally hurt you.”
Gojyo’s gaze darts to the window like maybe he’s thinking of making a break for it. Hakkai grins. It feels good. He runs his tongue over sharp teeth, drawing a little blood -- enough to make his senses perk up even more. The red-head sees it and bites his lip, eyes lowering submissively. The sight makes Hakkai harden a little bit and sighs out, arousal curling at the base of his spine.
He reaches out a hand and trails the back of his fingers gently, lovingly, down Gojyo’s jaw before dragging them slowly over his lips, soft breaths puffing against his fingertips. He pushes his fingers against those lips until they open for him and he rubs his fingers against Gojyo’s tongue, oh so very careful of his claws. The man’s eyes widen and Hakkai pulls his fingers out. There’s something else he wants in Gojyo’s mouth.
He grabs that silky hair and yanks the redhead closer, ignoring the grunt of pain. “Gojyo,” he pants, wanting wanting wanting. “You know what you have to do.” He wants like he’s never wanted before. It claws at him, that desire that sinks its teeth in his veins and sets his skin on fire.
“Hakkai,” Gojyo pants, sounding pained, unwilling.
It should be disturbing. It makes Hakkai harder instead. “Suck me, Gojyo,” he groans, pulling even more, rubbing that beautiful face against the crotch of his pants. “Yes, like that,” he moans when Gojyo breathes out unsteadily and then — cautiously — opens his lips against the cock that strains against cloth.
The redhead pulls back, face flushed, lips wet from his own spit and he looks at Hakkai pleadingly. “Hakkai. I don’t think I can—”
“You can.” Hakkai gives no quarter. “You can. You’ll be so good for me.”
Gojyo swallows hard and Hakkai’s gaze darkens. He wants to feel Gojyo swallow around his cock, wants to feel that throat work, wants him to choke on it.
“Pull me out,” he instructs harshly.
The redhead bites his lip, looking uncertain, but he’ll do it, of course he will because he knows, he damn-well knows what he’s been doing all this time.
Flirting.
Flirting with women. Flirting with men.
And — most grievous of all — flirting with Sanzo right in Hakkai’s face.
No more.
Finally, hands shaking, Gojyo undoes the button of Hakkai’s pants, carefully lowering the zipper. He reaches inside and sucks in a sharp breath when he pulls and Hakkai’s cock jumps, nearly slapping his nose.
Hakkai shoves his hips forward and rubs the head of his leaking, engorged cock on Goyjo’s face, rubbing it across his lips before pulling back, leaving those lips glistening with his precome. He wants Gojyo to taste him, to taste the saltiness on his lips. “Lick,” he growls.
Gojyo looks like he wants to protest, gaze mutinous. That won’t do.
He tightens his hand in that silky hair, making the redhead grimace. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”
The room is brightening, the sun rising, light spreading into the little house so it’s easy to see when the pink of Gojyo’s tongue pokes out and he licks his lips, removing the traces of Hakkai. Then he swallows. It is unbearably arousing.
“You look so beautiful on your knees,” he murmurs, pleased at the flush that rises on Gojyo’s cheeks. “Stunning. But then, you know that don’t you?” he asks darkly. “You know that men and women want you on your knees. I see it in their eyes, and you love knowing that you could have any one of them. That they would come running for you.” He runs a sharp claw up Gojyo’s neck, seeing him go impossibly still. “Is that what you think I would do? Come running? You think you have me at your beck and call?”
The redhead swallows and shakes his head unconvincingly.
“Maybe you do,” Hakkai allows. “But you will learn, Gojyo, how dangerous it is to keep a beast on a leash.” He stands in a sharp movement that has the other man scrambling back, tearing a few blood-colored silken threads free, but he doesn’t get far. Hakkai is on him in a second, taking them both down to the floor in a painful slam.
“Wait!” Gojyo yelps. Hakkai stills, though he can’t help burying his face against the other man’s hair, inhaling the scent of Gojyo. Sweat and liquor and too many cigarettes and that undefinable other that makes Hakkai’s dick twitch. “Just wait,” Gojyo continues breathlessly. He could get free. He could fight his way free. Summon his weapon maybe. He does none of those things. His gaze is steady, unflinching. Moreover, it’s trusting.
Hakkai shakes his head, a low growl in his throat, but he draws back, shifting to his knees. The yokkai stares at Gojyo, that wild, feline gaze unblinking before he pulls the limiters out of his pocket — the claws catch and shred and just like that the pants are goners — and holds them out to Gojyo. The other man blinks for a moment, not understanding. “I— Oh, sure, let me—,” he carefully, cautiously, sits up and clips them back onto Hakkai’s ears.
Hakkai shudders. The monster is put away and, as always, it’s a hellish, constraining relief, — because it’s not true, it’s never true. Hakkai is the monster. No claws necessary. It’s something the redhead hasn’t quite allowed himself to think, Hakkai knows that, knows that Gojyo has a bit of a blind spot when it comes to him. He leans forward and grips Gojyo’s chin tightly, the skin paling under the force of his fingers. “You get one opportunity — one,” he says softly, “to leave.”
Gojyo pushes the hair out of his face and laughs, the sound startling Hakkai. “It’s my house,” he says, an edge of hysteria to his mirth.
“I see.” Hakkai has his answer. He stands and turns but Gojyo grabs his forearm, fingers digging in. His mouth moves, but no words escape and after a hesitation, Hakkai caresses his face. “You must be sure, Gojyo. If we do this, you belong to me.”
Gojyo takes a shaky breath, exhaling in one sharp huff. “Gods, Hakkai, you’re the only person I’ve ever kept,” he whispers, looking away.
Hakkai’s eyes light in triumph and he doesn’t stop the smug twist of his lips. “Good. Don’t flirt with Sanzo again.”
Gojyo groans and yanks him close, biting at the other man’s lower lip in retaliation.